Platypus I hate you
by MiddyTears
Summary: Snape was having a pretty calm and stressfree life, but when the dark lord sends him to a middle school with the ridiculous idea that preteens would make for good minions, things go terribley wrong. Rated T for some language and crude humor.


**Platypus I Hate You**

**(Chapter 1)**

"Stupid kids..." Snape grumbled to himself as he looked up at the giant red brick building standing ominously before him. Voldemort had decided that he wanted muggle minions and he had heard that middle school students would be easiest to recruit due to something called 'peer pressure'. Snape had _tried_ to explain that there was just as much peer pressure in the wizarding world but Moldyshorts wouldn't listen.

**Flashback time!!**

"Make Lucius do it, then!" Severus had whined.

"No," Said his Moldiness "I need him here. Besides, you recently killed off one of the two authors' favorite character after Ron, Sirius, Ginny, Harry, and Remus. She wants to torture you as much as possible, I have nothing to do with it!"

Snape pouted, "But I had to! And he might not even be dead..." He grumbled. "Take it up with the author." Moldyshorts retorted impatiently.

"Fine!" Snape yelled. He made a rude face at his Moldiness and then turned to face the author (who was standing with them for some reason) "Make Lucius do it." He said angrily.

"Hmmm..." She thought about it. "Nope!" Then she disappeared. (Because everyone can randomly disappear)

"That is so not fair..." Snape whined.

"Shut up, you greasy loser!" Snapped Lucius as he strutted by, flipping his long shiny hair in Snape's face.

**End Flashback**

As Snape stomped into the school and flung open the doors to the main office the three secretaries looked up at him angrily, glaring in unison.

"Who are you supposed to be?" The one with short red hair demanded.

"My name is Severus Snape, and I'm filling in for..." He paused to check the piece of paper in his hand, "Connie Quackenbush, who, as I understand, has died suddenly for no apparent reason." He put his wand back in his pocket as an ugly short woman with ugly short hair fell over, dead outside the office window. He then put his hands in his pockets and whistled.

"It's okay." said the nurse from her office a few feat away, "No one liked her anyway."

The blonde office secretary glowered at the nurse. Her hazel eyes flashing dangerously, the blonde hissed; "Get back in your office!"

"But I _am_ in my office!" The nurse replied, raising her eye brows, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to give this midgetty sixth-grader his allergy medicine."

"MEDICINE?!?!" roared the brunette office lady, "There IS no medicine in this school, there are only cots!"

"Sorry," said the nurse looking sympathetically at the midget, "Get back on the cot." As the midget sniffled, sneezed, and fell over on the floor twitching the principle waddled out of her office. (Or she would have, granted she was able to fit through the door)

"OH MY GOD!!!" screamed the principle, coming out of her office, "That kid's having a seizure! Get him some medicine!"

"Get back in your office!" demanded the red haired secretary, "There is no medicine in this school, only cots!"

"But I'm the principle…" the rotund woman muttered, "You're supposed to listen to me!"

"We take orders from no one!" the three secretaries barked in unison, "No one except: THE ALL-MIGHTY ASSISTANT PRINCIPLE!!!" The assistant principle (Who everyone called 'Mr. Loins') appeared at the doorway to his office. At the sight of him, the three secretaries fell to their knees and bowed and the principle screeched and receded into her office.

Snape looked at the assistant principle, unsure of what species to place him under. He was short, probably around 5' 4, with a gray buzz-cut and rather large front teeth. He was wearing a hideous suit and his obnoxiously bright yellow tie was tucked into the space between two buttons on his shirt. Snape stared at him for a long time.

"What're you looking at, greaseball?" The assistant principle asked contemptuously.

"I'm trying to figure out exactly what animal you look like..." replied Snape, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "A bull-dog, a chimpanzee, a beaver, or a cow. I'd say a cross between all of them, or maybe a cross between all their different kinds of shit would be more accurate, judging by the way you smell." The assistant principle stood motionless with his mouth hanging open, No one had ever talked about him like that. (Not to his face anyway.)


End file.
